When Everything is Roses, Everything is Static
by cellardoor
Summary: Lit. Two people in love, one song, and one dance. Oneparter. Small.


**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gilmore Girls, never have, never will.

**AN:** So. This is just a short one-part-er. Doesn't really have a plot, kinda just goes… I'm really trying hard to get the next chapters of my other two stories out, I promise it's coming soon. Enjoy.

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Today was his 27th birthday and he was late.

She was in the kitchen cooking him Italian. Not that she knew how to cook, but she did know how to follow a recipe. The table was set perfectly for two, and candles were arranged sporadically around the small apartment that they shared. It had taken her almost thirty minutes to light each and every one, and she was sure by the time she lit the very last one, the first one had burnt out.

Music was playing in the background, music that he had told her he listened to as a child. She remembered him telling her the stories of being in the car with his grandfather and singing along as they drove down the open road. It was one of the few good memories he had as a child, his grandfather, the only man he ever truly loved, and cared for, the only person he cried over when he heard the news of his death, the only person that he said was worth his tears, until he met her.

She dipped the spoon into the sauce, stirring it just until she thought it looked perfect and then brought it up to her mouth for a taste. Now she was no food critique, but for someone who had only cooked five other times in her life, she thought shed did a pretty good job.

She set the spoon down on the counter and smoothed out her dress with the palms of her hands. She turned her head so she could see her reflection in the mirror, and that's when she remembered that she needed earrings. She wasn't one wear a lot of jewelry, she didn't have much, she was plain, and he loved that about her. But he once commented on how cute her ears were, how perfect they matched the rest of her small petite body, and from that moment on, she always wore earrings for him. It was her small gesture to him for his small compliment that he probably doesn't remember making. She glanced at the clock and seeing as how he was already seventeen minutes late, she made her way to the bedroom to find the perfect pair.

She swayed along to the music as she searched through her jewelry box, and gently picked up one earring at a time, until she found both, she was putting in the second earring when she felt someone touch her. 

They had known each other for eleven years, after he moved to her town. They had been friends for ten of those years, after he proved to her that he wasn't the jerk she thought he was. They had dated nine of those years, and they had been married for two of those, life as she knew it was perfect.

His hands slid around her waste and he kissed her neck. She gasped and turned around when she felt his lips on her skin.

"Hi," she smiled quietly. She studied his face, she knew every curve, every hair, and every scar there ever was. She burned it into her mind seven years ago when he left her. That was the only time they ever spent apart. He went to Italy. They got into a fight, she said she hated him, he begged her take it back, but she refused, and so he left. He returned three months later, a new person, but still the same old boy she always knew and loved. He avoided her for a month after his return, and when they accidentally ran into each other in one of the most unlikely of places, she apologized from the bottom of her heart and took it back, so the only he could do was accept her apology, not like he would have done anything else. She studied his face then too, and not one thing had changed in those three months except his eyes, the love and hope that she once saw was gone. She knew it was there, hidden, and she knew it was her fault.

"Hi" he smiled back, the most serious of looks written on his face. He watched her eyes as they studied his face. He knew her better then she knew herself. Always studying his face, expecting something to change, but he knew that she knew nothing would ever be different, just as her face still looked exactly the same as the first time he met her. He also noticed her earrings, she used to never wear earrings, he loved it when she wore them though, he had said something about her ears once, and from that point on she wore them for him, she thought he didn't notice, but he did.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she broke her eyes away from his chiseled features and raised her arms and placed them on his chest, drawing small circles with her fingers, and then avoided making eye contact at all, "I was supposed to be out there, by the table, looking all beautiful when you walked in, candles lighting the room, and the smell of Italian food filling the air. It's your birthday and it was supposed to be perfect" she looked up to see him looking down at her, she looked back down at her hands as she brought them up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You're perfect" he kissed her again.

She smiled through his kiss, "Happy Birthday."

He pulled away to look at her, and then kissed her again, this time with more passion then before. He leaned into her, causing her back to arch, his hand ran up her spine to support her. Then she took control of the kiss, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, and straightening herself up, she pushed him, causing him to step backwards, and grab onto her for safety. She broke away from him first, and opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger to her lips to keep her quiet. He held onto her tightly as she giggled and broke free. 

"I have to go check on the sauce," she let go of his hand, and made her way out the door towards the kitchen.

He watched her as she walked out of the room; she turned the corner and he could no longer see her, he hated it when she left him. In this case he knew where she was going, to the kitchen of course, but if it was up to him, she would never leave his side; he quickly followed behind her, and grabbed her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck.

"Jess…" she whined with a smile, "I really have to check on the sauce."

"Forget the sauce," he mumbled into her neck, "I don't care about the sauce." He kissed her gently.

She turned around to face him, "I do," she smiled. "It's your birthday and everything is supposed to be perfect, including the sauce." She kissed him lightly before making her way back into the kitchen.

He sighed as his arms fell limp to his sides. He rubbed his head before continuing on his way into the family room, where he began to shuffle through his CD's, there was one in particular he wanted to hear, and since it was his birthday, he had total control of the song selection.

"How is that sauce doing?" he asked from where he was standing, turning his head just so he could barely see her back.

"Superb," she smiled and turned, and began to walk towards him. 

He let out a small laugh.

"What's so funny?" she sat down slowly onto the coffee table.

"Nothing, your just cute." He turned to look at her with a stack on CD's in his hand.

"Why?" she gave him the look.

"I was just thinking, has anything you've ever cooked been 'superb'?" he had a huge grin on his face. She knew that grin. It was the 'I'm so funny and you know I'm right' grin.

"Shut up" she playfully hit him before turning her back to him. She slid around so she was now facing the couch when she saw it. A large wrapped box, which she knew she had not wrapped… and that had definitely not been there before.

"What's that?" she pointed towards the couch and turned just her head to look at him.

He shrugged, "Looks like a present."

"Who is it from?" she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Me." He didn't stop to look at her; he just continued to shuffle through his CD's.

She didn't move, "You bought me a present for _your_ birthday?" she didn't take her eyes off the gift.

He had finally found the CD he was looking for, and for a second the room was filled with complete silence. He gently placed the CD in the stereo, and waited for the music to start before walking over to the coffee table and stopping in front of her, he held out his hand, "Dance with me?"

She slowly and carefully placed her hand in his, and stood up. He took her small body in his arms and together they swayed slowly to the music.

"What is it?" 

He shrugged, "I guess you'll have to open it to find out."

They moved together slower than the beat of the song.

"When can I open it?"

"When its time." He pulled her closer to him, and held on tighter. "I love this song, it reminds me of… me." He mouthed the words to her as they danced.

"But you're not a gigolo…" She stated, "…and you are definitely not lonely." 

"No… no I'm not lonely, and I'm definitely not a gigolo… well as far as you know" He let a smile spread across his face and winked a playful wink before leaning down and gently kissing her. "This was my grandfather's favorite song." He stared at her.

She placed her hand on his face and he leaned into it. She rubbed his cheek with her thumb, and then placed a small kiss on his other cheek.

He took her hand and kissed it, and quietly sang into her ear, "I'm just a gigolo, everywhere I go, people know the part I'm playing… there will come a day when youth pass away, what'll they say about me? When the end comes I know, I was just a gigolo and life goes on without me…"

She smiled, he had a beautiful voice, and no matter how many times she told him, he always denied it. He said he only sang for her, because he knew it made her smile, "My gigolo." She placed her head on his shoulder.

"Your gigolo" he repeated as he bit his lower lip, "I love you." 

"I know you do," she giggled, "And I love you."

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something again, but he shut her up by placing a small fragile kiss on her lips… she smiled in understanding, and giggled, he twirled her, and watched as her beautiful hair swayed though the air, and she came back to rest in his arms.

It seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion when he twirled her again, but this time she didn't make it back to him, and there was nothing in his arms… 


End file.
